


oregon forest

by skuls



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode: s07e22 Requiem (X-Files), F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 03:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuls/pseuds/skuls
Summary: AU prompt: What if Scully had gone to Oregon with Mulder in Requiem?





	oregon forest

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompt was, "AU where Scully went to Oregon in Requiem instead of Mulder?" but I had trouble figuring out a way to get her there by herself.

**1.**  She won’t let him go alone. She tells him that in the hallway, her voice full of determination. He’s not going to let her go back out there, and she’s not going to let him go alone. Their stubbornness is equally matched; when Mulder counters that maybe they shouldn’t go at all, she counters that there is no need to do that for her, that she is not fragile, that she is going with him and that’s the end of it. It’s a fight that neither of them will win.

They fly out that night, the both of them. Skinner goes along. The tension is palpable, too thick in the tiny space of the plane, and even their boss notices it, alternately shooting them questioning looks. Scully sits near the window, watching the tiny houses and trees below. She ignores the churning of her stomach, the nausea; she dismisses it as some sort of air sickness.

**2.**  They’re setting up some sort of laser thing, crouched on the ground. Scully feels too hot, sick to her stomach, sweating. Mulder keeps shooting her concerned looks, and she’s getting tired of it. When her cell phone rings, she stands gratefully and walks to the edge of the tree line to take it.

It’s Langly on the other end. “Hey, Scully,” he says awkwardly, almost uncertain, “that stuff that happened to Mulder last summer… what was it?”

“It was anomalous brain activity,” says Scully, her eyebrows raised. “Why are you asking?”

“Was it specifically, uh…” Langly holds the phone to his ears and calls, “What was it, Byers?”

There’s a rustle on his end, and then Byers’s voice comes on. “Electro-encephalitic trauma, right?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Byers swallows. She can hear it on the other end. “Scully…” he says gingerly, “we’ve been looking through the medical records on the other abductees. And… and it looks like they all… experienced what Mulder experienced last year.”

Scully freezes, her fingers cold on the receiver. Sudden understanding and fear washing over here. “They… they all experienced that same brain activity?” she says with astonishment, and Byers confirms that they did. It all makes sense, suddenly, and she realizes that she’s suddenly terribly cold, probably pale. And then she hears Skinner’s voice from further in the woods, shouting Mulder’s name.

She drops the phone, ignoring the Gunmen’s confused calls on the other end. She runs for the woods without thinking, despite the rolling of her stomach, despite the shivering. Her feet are pounding the soft ground, the dead leaves. She pushes past Skinner, who shouts her name instead of Mulder’s, but she ignores that, too. She calls his name, practically bellowing—” _Mulder!_ ”—and she doesn’t stop. Not even when she comes to some sort of invisible barrier that vibrates the way she had in the forest a few days ago. She pushes through, somehow, and Skinner’s voice muffles, wavering. Almost like he is underwater.

The missing abductees stand beneath a beam of light. And closer, Mulder, who turns to her in a panic, his eyes wide. He shakes his head, almost automatically.

She doesn’t waste any time. She seizes his hand in hers and tries to pull him away. She’s aware that there are tears in her eyes.

The light begins to sweep through the circle, blinding her. She clings hard to his hand, suddenly frightened. Maybe more frightened than she’s ever been.

The last thing she hears is the panicked sound of Mulder calling her name.

**3.** She remembers it in chunks, but mostly, she doesn’t remember it at all. She remembers Mulder’s voice whispering— _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, god, I’m so sorry_ … She remembers screaming his name. She remembers the lights. She is just so cold.

She remembers Mulder is there, for some of it. That he’s there. That seems to be all that matters, in this giant fucking mess: that they’re together.

**4.**  Skinner finds them. They’re somewhere in the desert, and they’re still together. They’re shivering. Scully’s teeth are chattering. Mulder is wrapped around her, his face in her neck, his fingernails digging into her back desperately. She’s gripping him just as hard, and she squints as someone shines a light into her eyes. She’s frightened all over again until she hears Skinner’s panicked voice: “Scully? Mulder?”

Relief fills her, suddenly, and she nods, a little whimper bubbling in her throat, as her head falls limply to Mulder’s shoulder.

Skinner drives them to the hospital. Mulder won’t let go of her hand. He won’t stop touching her face, her hair. He whispers it again, the things she remembers from the ship; he whispers, “I’m sorry, Scully, I’m so, so sorry.” She shakes her head. She grips a handful of the jacket that Skinner gave him and puts her head back on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her and sniffles, pressing his nose to her scalp. “I’m so sorry,” he gasps out. “I-I never wanted… I never meant for you to…”

She shakes her head again. She turns her face into his jacket to hide her tears. “They wanted you,” she murmurs. “And I didn’t know… I couldn’t let them take you.”

He sniffles. He presses his cheek against the side of her head. “We never should’ve gone,” he mumbles. “I feel so fucking stupid for having gone.”

“No,” she says, because he didn’t know. It may have been foolish for her to go along with him, but how could he have known that he was in danger? She won’t apologize for going with him (because she can’t imagine having stayed at home and lost him, him having to go through this alone), and she won’t let him apologize for her being there. She finds his hand and holds it tightly.

**5.**  Mulder doesn’t leave her side at the hospital. It might seem like a given, but Scully knows that it is certainly not, so she is grateful that they are more or less humored. (She assumes it has something to do with Skinner, who keeps looking at them with haunted, guilty eyes. Some clue to how he’s fared since their disappearance.)

Outwardly, they seem fine. They are exhausted, bruised, aching, but otherwise fine. The doctors opt to do a blood test, as well as several other various tests, just to check. Scully doesn’t argue. She wants to know what has happened to them, everything they can find out. It’s a horrible feeling, having another missing month of her life, but she’s trying to remind herself that they’re both whole, both okay, when it could’ve been so much worse.

They’re told they’ve been gone for a month. A man named Doggett apparently took over the X-Files in their absence, and he seems relieved to hand it back other. Scully calls her mother and she weeps with relief on the other end. They are instructed by a nurse to rest, put in a room with two separate beds, but Mulder waits approximately five seconds after the nurse turns out the lights and closes the door until he climbs out of his bed and into Scully’s. She scoots over willingly, gratefully. They fall asleep tangled up in the covers together.

—

The doctor comes, later, with the results of their testing. They can’t figure out very much from it, but the doctor reassures them both that they seem just fine. “All of your testing came back normally,” says the doctor, passing Scully the file when she holds out an expectant hand, “and your baby is likely fine as well, by my estimations…”

Scully freezes, stunned, dropping the file on the bed. Beside her, she can feel Mulder tense. “What did you say?” she whispers, and is speaking nearly before the doctor can. “I-I don’t have a baby. That’s impossible.”

The doctor looks troubled. “You don’t know?” he says questioningly, and Scully can feel Mulder’s fingers thread through hers. Numb, afraid of what this means, she shakes her head. He clears his throat and says, “We found HCG in your blood. The levels we found indicate that you’re a couple months along… three or four, I’d say…”

Fear turns to strange, nervous anticipated, washing over her, as she remembers the nausea in Oregon, the way she felt faint just before… “Three or four months?” she says, nearly stammering. Mulder’s hand is still, unmoving in hers. That would mean she got pregnant in August or September. The doctor nods. “I-I’m really…” she continues, uncertain, unbelieving. If she was pregnant when they took her, and if they didn’t take the baby, if they didn’t hurt the baby… if she’s been pregnant all this time… It’s hers and Mulder’s, this baby, and that means that this has happened for them, the thing that they’d wanted so badly. Mulder squeezes her hand.

“We’ll do an ultrasound to confirm everything, but every indication is that this happened before you disappeared, Dana,” says the doctor, gently. “And considering that there’s nothing wrong with the two of you outside of some cuts and bruises, I’d say your baby is fine, too.”

She turns towards Mulder, who is staring at her, who reaches out to cup her face, gingerly, as the doctor slips out of the room to give them some privacy. His eyes are wet with tears. She wraps her arms around him in one fierce motion, hugging him hard. “Scully…” he murmurs, his nose tucked into her hair, his arms tight around her.

“It’s  _ours_ ,” she whispers, full of relief and disbelief and maybe even amazement. “In Oregon, Mulder, I was… It’s our baby. It’s ours.”

“Scully,” he whispers, kissing her cheeks, under her jaw, her forehead. He’s crying; she wipes his eyes, strokes her thumb over his lower lip. “I can't… I can’t believe it.” He kisses the flat of her thumb, his eyes shut; he rests his forehead against hers. “Honey, I…” he starts, unsteady, and she thinks he is going to apologize again, but he just pulls her close instead, his face against her shoulder. “I’m just so glad you’re okay,” he gasps out.

She thinks of the ship, the fact that it had wanted him, that it almost took him away without her, and she bites back a shudder, presses her lips to the top of his head. “ _We’re_  okay,” she says huskily. “We’re  _together_. We’re still together.”


End file.
